Complete Story. The Man She Loved.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXVIII, Issue IX, 1 March 1902, Page 390

Complete Story. The Man She Loved.

Elsie Mayne married Dick Sherwell for his money, and everyone in Elmchester guesseu it except Dick, and he was blind — blind to everything except her blue eyes and red lips—blind as a man is blind only once in his life. He knew that she had not loved him when they married, and he knew that she had once loved another man. but he did not guess the ugly truth —he did not know that all the money he had settled upon her had gone to pay the debts of her old lover! She had married Dick Sherwell for that reason —in order that the blackguard whom she loved should have money- to start life afresh without her! What he had done with it she did not know, lie had disappeared, and she had never heard another word of him. He had gone out of her life, and for twelve months she ami Dick lived quietly in the old house, ami for twelve months Dick was wildIv happv. If it had not been for the black shadow of deceit upon her life, perhaps Elsie would have been happy. too; but the thought of it sent a strange shudder through her when she looked into Dick's eyes. If h•• knew! If some day he asked about the money that Fred Clinton hail taken, and he found out that she had deliberately given it away—what then? He would never forgive her. never forget. He had known she did not love him. but he would not forgive that. It was almost exactly twelve months since Fred had gone when one night Dick brought in a letter for her. She remembered that night long afterwards with a sick feeling of shame. It was early spring, but quite warm, and she was in the garden with her face turned up to the darkening sky when Dick came in. He walked straight through the house towards her. with the chi eager light in his eyes just as it used to be. He put his arm round her waist and kissed her. and then gave her the letter. She looked at the handwriting and her heart grew sick. The dull brown earth and the blue sky above swam round giddily. She crumpled the letter and thrust it in her pocket. Dick did not think to question her about it —he never did. and later on she opened it with a SMuen feeling of fear. For twelve months, silence, and now The thick, black handwriting danced before her eyes. The white paper shook in her fingers, and it was a long time before she managed to understand that he was coming back — that Fred, whom she had almost forgotten. was coming back to Elmchester—coming to see her! In that instant she realised what a fool she had been. In that instant a sudden knowledge came to her that Dick and Dick's love were more to her than ever Fred had been, and a new sick feeling of coming evil seemed to clutch her heart. If she told him now. if she confessed everything, would he ever believe her? If she told him now he would think that she was deceiving him again; he would never believe in her any more: he would think she was still lying in order that he should still protect her. She took up a pen and wrote hastily: “Do not come; I cannot see you." and she slipped out herself that night and posted it at the pillar box that stood outside the gate. The next day was interminable. Every footstep on the gravel, every knock at the door, made her start uneasily, and the more she thought the more easily it seemed she might lose Dick and all the happiness the last year had brought her. It was an endless day. Fred had asked her to meet him in the town at six o'clock, but six o'clock came and she did not move. At half-past Dick would lie in Hick, with his dear face and honest eyes Dick, her husband. the man she really loved.

She went to the window and waited for him to come; watching for him as she had never watched before. When he came she would tell him everything. She would never keep anything from him again! She would spend all her life in showing him she loved him! It seemed a long time to wait that night. The dusk deepened. She heard the rattle of silver as the housemaid arranged the dinner table, and still Dick did not come. She looked at the clock and started. It was nearly seven. She was about to turn when suddenly someone came running up thdrive. She opened the window ami put out a white face. "What is it?" she cried. The boy handed her a note. “ 'E said as I was to give it ter you." he cried, "as nobody else was ter 'ave it.” Elsie tore it open. It was from Dick. “My wife,” it ran. “It is for your sake I am going. I heard that Clinton is helpless, but I'll save him if I can.—Dick." Elsie stared ai the boy. “What is it?" she cried. “What has happened? Who gave you this?" "It was Mr Sherwell. ma’am," said the boy. "an' ’e was off up the ladder afore I could speak. It's the fire at the ’Bull,' ma'am, an 'e went off after a gent as is laid up with a broken leg. ma'am. He can't move nohow — "e got knocked down by a dray this morning — and they say as 'is room's afire, but nobody would go up till Mr Sherwell came along. Elsie waited to hear no more. She turned and rushed upstairs for her hat. Ten minutes later she was standing with a crowd of others staring up at the burning “Bull.” It was an old inn. full of wood, and was burning fiercely. By an odd coincidence there had been another fire a little earlier, some way out of Elmchester, and the consequence was that the fire engines and men had not yet returned, and the few men playing oil the fire with garden hose had no chance. Elsie thrust her way between the ■ taring groups. “Where's Mr Sherwell?" she cried. "Where is he?” They looked at her dumbly. "Don't you hear?” she said. “Where is he?” Some man came forward. "They brought him out a minute ago.” he said. "They couldn’t get the other, but Mr Sherwell’s gone to the ’orspital. mum.” For an instant Elsie reeled. Her lips moved, but no sound came. Her heart stood still, and then seemed to choke her with its mad beating. She stood for an instant rigid, and then turning made her way unsteadily towards the hospital. In one of the rooms they had just put down a charred and blackened body. At first sight it seemed to have no life in it, but gradually as they peeled off the burnt clothes they saw pain shoot up to his faee. They did all they could and had just stretched him comfortably on a <oft lied when the doctor brought Elsie in. He was a personal friend, and for once the hospital rules were ignored. Elsie ran forward breathlessly and fell with a sob at Dick’s side. His blind eyes, his lifeless face, were all she thought of just then. "Dick—Dick.” she cried. “Oh. Dick, my darling!” Her voice broke with a sob, and Dick suddenly opened his eyes. He stared at her for a moment as if he did not see. and then one of his bandaged hands moved slowly out to her. "I did my best.” he gasped in a whisper. "I tried—my wife—l tried for your sake—to save him—but 1 couldn’t: he was dead!" His voice dropped and died out, and

he fainted again. Elsie flung herself down beside him.

“Dick. Dick, my darling,” she cried. “I can’t lose you. Come back to me, my love—Dick—l don’t care—l only eare for you.” Perhaps he heard before he had gone too far, perhaps the dim sound of her voice as he was sinking into unconsciousness came to him just in time and saved him: but anyhow he came back to fight for his life almost by a miracle and he conquered at last. Six weeks after the fit* he lay on a couch in his own house once more, and Elsie knelt beside him looking into his face. "I must tell you, Dick,” she cried. "It has been like a nightmare to me, and 1 can't bear it any longer. Even if you never forgive me I must tell you now, but I love you better than my life and can’t "bear —that you should think—l cared for him." He caught her hand in his. "As if I didn’t know—now," he began, but she interrupted him. and in a broken story told him the story of her marriage settlements. It was an ugly story, and perhaps Dick flinched once as he listened. But it was only onee. He look, <1 into her eyes—into her face, that had grown so thin and white during the last few weeks, and he saw that she had suffered—that her sin had its punishment. “My wife! My wife!" he cried, at last, hoarsely. "I can forgive it all now because I know you love me—because I know you loved me even then —a year ago—though you didn’t know it, because that man still influenced you. My darling, i’ll forgive you anything in the world—always—if you will only keep the look that is in your face now—if you will always look at me like that!” Elsie dropped her head on his shoulder so that he could not see the tears in her eyes; but perhaps he guessed they were there, for he held her very close, and for a long minute she did not move.